


Game of Thrones (1): Cold But Not Alone

by Madzie2000



Series: Star Ships: Best Non-canon Couples of TV and Film [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie2000/pseuds/Madzie2000
Summary: Sansa and Theon are saved by Brienne and Podrick; Sansa decides to go back to Castle Black with them. However, Theon takes some convincing. From here they find sanctuary, but Theon is not as warmly greeted; in saying this Sansa is something of a comfort to him in the dead of night. (This one-shot follows Sansa and Theon in a different take on the ending of episode 1 of Season 6 in the TV series)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like this; it took me FOREVER to write but I found it very rewarding!  
> Enjoy, 
> 
> Madzie 2000

Theon was gathering wood when Sansa approached him, Brienne and Podrick listening in on every word. Because of the distance it was hard to make out everything, but they knew for sure that Sansa was convincing him to come back to Winterfell with them. Hearing his crimes had come as quite a shock, but the evidence of torture on his face and body seemed to cancel out any anger Brienne might have thought to take out on him. _He’s a good man at heart… he should stay with us._ In a surprise turn of events, Theon dropped to his knees and began to sob quietly to himself rather than leaving as Brienne, Podrick and Sansa had expected.

“He tortured me Sansa… in ways no man or woman should be tortured. He cut of my balls and fed them to his dogs like any other piece of meat,” he stammered, “you know what happens to men like me who can’t get a woman to produce an heir? They mock us!”

Despite the pain in his voice, Sansa lifted Theon’s chin with a gentle movement of her hand and looked into his eyes.

 

“Do you see the others mocking you, or me?” she asked him with sincerity.

A tear slipped down Theon’s cheek and cut through the grit stained on his flesh, leaving a line of pristine skin underneath.

“But I have to go Sansa,” he begged, “and you shouldn’t have to look at me any longer after what I let Ramsay do to you.”

When Theon grabbed one of the sticks and looked to pierce his skin with it, Sansa ripped it out of his hands. His fingers fumbled in the air as if expecting something to take the place of the stick and there he found Sansa, her hands covering his and quickly moving around his back.

“Stop, please Theon,” she said with a tear in her eye, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck.

“I should have stopped him when I had the chance,” he whispered quietly into her ear.

“And that’s why you should come back with us Theon,” she whispered back, “because you know what’s right and what’s wrong.

 

“Ramsay didn’t and look what that got him: a wife who doesn’t love her husband.”

Sansa let him go and gave him a severe stare.

“And if I have anything to say about it,” she snarled, “he’ll be at **our** feet begging for mercy.”

Brienne and Podrick caught wind of the threat and became concerned, or perhaps even scared. What could Ramsay have done to his bride to make her so upset? The same word crossed their minds and it sent shivers down both their spines.

“Should we ask her what happened or leave her be?” Podrick said quietly as Theon and Sansa approached them. Brienne looked at him and glanced at their new travelling companions.

“Let her say in her own time if she wishes Pod,” Brienne replied.

 

Some Time Later…

 

The Dreadfort was far behind Sansa, like a creature in a nightmare she had once… her father had killed it and they embraced, the dream quickly ending when she woke up and remembered that she was to be betrothed to that same monster. _Ramsay is not my concern anymore: finding Jon and the rest of my family is_ , Sansa scolded herself silently. She had her arms wrapped around Theon’s waist as they sat atop one of the two horses owned by Brienne and Podrick. Being a lady of such a tall stature, Brienne had taken one horse on her own and Podrick had to lead both of them through the snow and one blizzard, giving him a strong feeling of weariness he hoped he wouldn’t have to feel for a long time to come. The men at the gates called for the man below and he stated his name and who he had with him, quickly gaining access to the Castle. As they entered, Sansa felt Theon pull on the reins of the horse, stopping it to help her down. Sansa put her hands on his shoulders and slid off, holding his icy blue gaze for a moment. The whites in his eyes had grown pink from the tears he had shed for Sansa, for his lost pride and most importantly all the terrible things he had done to lose the trust of the Stark family.

 

Sansa put an arm out for Theon when he pulled on the reins to move the horse away.

“You’ll be fine Theon,” she said calmly, “just look him in the eye and tell him the truth. Jon is a good man; we’ve both known this since we were children.”

Theon said nothing as Brienne and Podrick waited for them to walk ahead, Sansa being a Lady and of House Stark no less. Some of the men eyed Theon and one went as far as to whisper a single word.

“Murderer,” the stranger taunted.

Sansa turned an angry glare in his direction and he stared at her incredulously. _Why would Sansa Stark – of all people – protect the man that had destroyed her home and killed her brothers?_ Sansa saw a figure clothed in black standing atop a set of stairs. Their eyes locked and Sansa’s jaw slackened in shock. Jon Snow was alive and well despite her obvious assumptions; her gut instinct from being the ex-owner of a direwolf, she supposed. He hadn’t changed much, aside from the beard. He was still short but his broad shoulders and pure muscle tone made up for it, along with his natural skill in leading others. Sansa walked at a slow pace toward the stairs and Jon was almost flying down them with the long strides he was taking.

 

When they were less than a metre away from one another Sansa threw her arms around her big brother and he held her tightly. He had to be sure that she was real. As he let his eyes open he saw Theon Greyjoy standing a little way away from them and their quick reunion. Now he was in his full anger mode.

“Why did you bring him here Sansa?” Jon said with venom in his voice as he pushed Sansa back gently to look into her eyes.

“He helped me escape... he told me the truth. Jon, let him explain what happened to Bran and Ri –”

Jon pushed Sansa to one side and drew his sword, poised to strike in a single jabbing motion.

“How DARE you fill my sisters head with lies!” he yelled at Theon as he began to tremble.

“You killed my brothers and now you poison Sansa against me? You **deserve** to die.”

Theon just stood there and Jon felt the anger in his blood still.

“Have you the heart to do it yourself?” He said as if hoping the answer was yes.

“No,” Theon said honestly, “but you want me dead so what’s the use in fighting it?”

 

Theon kneeled and then sat up on his knees, sticking out his neck.

“Do it!” he said loudly as tears began to course down his dirty cheeks.

Jon looked back as Sansa and he saw her mouthing one word: _no_.

“Why doesn’t she want you to die after what you did to our family?” Jon said as he began to form a different image in his mind of the Theon Greyjoy he knew. He was no longer battle-hardened or dominant. He was submissive, weak, skinny; frail even.

“Because she knows that I didn’t kill them,” Theon said as he felt a blade touch his neck, “I grew up with those boys. They were my brothers too.”

Jon saw a small flash on the ground and wrenched Theon’s head up to see the tears in his eyes.

“Then who were the boys that you hung and burned?” Jon said as a fierce rage threatened to boil his flesh.

“They were a farmer sons,” Theon said with some semblance of his old self, “I couldn’t find them and they were close in age... so I let them take the place of Bran and Rickon.”

 

“Stand,” Jon spat into his face.

“You two, see that he enjoys rotting in a cell for the week. Take the Ladies to a chamber and give that man with the horses a drink of ale and a decent meal. He looks like he’s been through Seven Hells and back.”

One man escorted Theon to a cell with zero resistance while Sansa moved to Jon’s side and pulled at his arm hard.

“Why are you letting him die in the cold?” She said with anger and tears in her eyes.

“He saved my life and you repay him by letting him remain imprisoned? If you knew the suffering he’s had to deal with as I have then you’d think differently.”

“What suffering?” Jon said with an odd combination of sarcasm and anger, getting uncomfortably close to Sansa’s face.

“ **Fucking** whores and drinking to his victory over Winterfell?”

“Far worse; he watched Ramsay Bolton rape me on our wedding night,” Sansa said as a tear slid down her cheek.

 

Jon’s face fell for a moment and took on a serious, but far less angered expression.

“Why didn’t he do anything to stop it?” He asked in shock.

“Ramsay forced him,” she said as tears began to flow freely, “if he didn’t watch he’d be put through as much torment as me. A few days later he admitted what had happened with the decoys for Bran and Rickon. Ramsay gave him the name Reek and made him believe that Theon Greyjoy was dead, that nobody cared. I did Jon. **I** cared.”

Jon stepped toward Sansa but she stepped away.

“When he comes out, I come out,” Sansa said coldly as she was escorted to a room with Brienne.

Jon was left to stand and wonder how his sister could become so defensive of a man who let her suffer. Then again, Jon couldn’t remember the last time he saw Theon cry... perhaps he never had.     

 

Later That Night...

 

Theon was in a small room pressed up against a wall, slowly going mad.

“I’m sorry Bran, Rickon, Sansa, Jon, Ned, Catelyn, Arya, Robb... I should have been there for you and instead  went home and came back to kill you all off like animals. I deserve to rot in a cell for what I did to House Stark.”

“And Ramsay deserves to rot in a cell for making you think such a thing,” came Sansa’s light, airy voice.

“Go away... please,” he begged her, “let me suffer alone. You know damn well that I should be down there.”

Sansa walked into the cell and kneeled in front of his raised knees, staring kindly at his eyes.

 “No, no, no,” he mumbled and sobbed at once.

“No, what?” she asked as she tried to keep her composure.

“No,” he said firmly, “you can’t be here. I’m not a safe man to be around. Ramsay thought he’d cure me but he was wrong.”

 

Sansa couldn’t hide the embarrassment she felt at the sight of a bulge in Theon’s britches and what it meant for her. A flash of the bed head before her with a searing pain running up her body filled Sansa’s eyes and stained her mind. What Ramsay had done was not what that place was meant for and she knew it. Theon was renowned for his promiscuity and perhaps he **needed** to see that she was not afraid. The worst things that could happen to her had happened already and it was high time she enjoyed life rather than lived in fear of it.

“What did they say about you, the whores?”

Theon nearly jumped to his feet but instead fell silent at Sansa’s words.

“Tell me,” she said insistently, “I need to know.”

“They called me names,” he said bluntly, “ones that Ladies aren’t supposed to hear.”

“For arguments sake let’s say that I’m not a Lady... what was one of them?” she urged.

Theon looked up and knew that he would not be able to tell f there were any guards around; especially since Sansa had shut the door.

 

“One whore said that I had...” as his voice trailed away he looked toward his lap “... had a Magic Cock. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The way Theon snapped made Sansa’s heart break and flutter all at once. He wanted to be with someone and his mind was telling him that she was **not** something to be toyed with. If she had her way then Ramsay Bolton would be the second man to know it was the truth.

“You said that you wanted to stop Ramsay that night but we both know it cannot be changed,” she said as she let a hand slip under his chin, “but you can certainly stop yourself from making the same mistakes that he did.”

Sansa bravely leant forward and pushed her lips against Theon’s, the cold of his body a pleasant surprise in contrast to the growing heat in her own. Theon gently moved his tongue over her lower lips and very soon it was inside her mouth, exploring every millimetre of enamel or flesh that it found. The sensation was odd to Sansa but Theon was good at this and she couldn’t deny her enjoyment in it.

 

They broke apart and Theon looked at her as if he was disgusted. This was the little girl he had thought of as his sister while away from his flesh and blood. This had to be wrong.

“Would you really fuck me on the cold hard ground?” he practically spat at her.

“If I have to for your sake,” Sansa said abruptly.

“Highborn Ladies don’t fuck men like me,” Theon said as Sansa hiked her skirts up, bringing them to her knees.

“But I’m not a Highborn Lady,” she said calmly, “I’m just a woman.”

“I’m still putting you on the bed,” he said sternly, standing and picking up Sansa like a modern-day bride. Theon let himself get lost in Sansa’s eyes for a moment, the ice in his eyes making her feel drawn to him. With a kiss on the cheek, he laid her down on the bed gently, hands running down the front of her gown.

 “I’m just showing you what a real man should do to a woman,” Theon said with a hidden uncertainty, “is that what you thought of?”

 

“That’s hardly fair,” Sansa said as she sat up on her elbows, “what do women do to men?”

“That’s not important Sansa.”

“It is to me,” she said as she dropped her legs over the side of the bed.

Sansa walked toward Theon and let a hand rest in the hair at the back of his head, her free hand sitting at his hip. She pressed a kiss to his lips and ventured to push her own tongue lightly against his upper lip, enticing him into a small moan. The little bitch was learning fast and had taken him by surprise. As the kiss grew a little more passionate, Theon trembled and his hands pulled Sansa flush against his taut, muscled body. Her wandering arm became trapped between their bodies, Sansa’s hand sitting against the bulge in Theon’s britches. When Theon realised that Sansa had developed a firm grip on his cock, he was more than surprised. He broke the kiss and moved his head back to see a defiant smile on Sansa’s face.

“What do you plan on doing with my cock in your hand?” he teased.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll fulfil your desires,” Sansa whispered into his ear sensually with a smirk.

 

“Backwards and forwards, as if you’re polishing a sword,” he whispered back.

Sansa’s hand moved and immediately Theon had begun to harden further at her touch. His breathing was a little louder and grew more erratic.

“Now grip it a harder and move faster,” he urged her.

Sansa obliged and a deep, breathy moan escaped his lips. Wanting to disguise how much he wanted this, Theon leant his head down to one creamy side of her neck and began to ease Sansa’s nightdress over her shoulders. He trailed kisses from her jaw down to her upper arm, all the while letting her rub her hand over his cock with the expertise of any common whore. How she could do this so well was beyond his thinking. Knowing that Sansa might bring him the sweet release he used to crave, Theon stopped her hand, lifting her back onto the bed. He laid her down and smiled.

“This is how a man should treat a woman,” he said slyly as his hand pulled down the nightdress, stopping at her waist.

Lips ran over Sansa’s chest, trailing kisses to her navel.

 

One hand moved up to her right breast and kneaded it while the other pulled the nightdress further down her body. The kisses got impossibly lower and the hand was gone from her chest altogether. Now Theon sat his head between her legs and flicked his tongue out of his mouth, moving it across a part of Sansa’s lower body she barely knew the existence of. She gripped at the sheets when Theon’s lips wrapped around a hard nub and sucked on it lightly. The sensation was maddening. Her hips lifted a little and Theon moved a finger into Sansa’s body, going slowly to savour the face of ecstasy she was making. Sansa almost mewled and put a hand over her mouth to hide her body’s betrayal.

“I want to hear your moans,” Theon said against Sansa’s lower body.

The finger moved a little faster and slowly but surely, Sansa’s muscles began to spasm with long gaps in between. He sped up and the spasms grew faster, spaced closer together. With expert hands he added a second finger and stretched the tight muscles, causing Sansa to try and close her legs.

“Discomfort now means less pain later on,” he assured her.

Sansa trusted his judgement and soon two fingers were inside of her, moving slowly backward and forward while the assault with his mouth continued.

 

Sansa couldn’t see Theon’s face but she had an odd feeling that he had grown tired as his hands had slowed considerably. Now was her chance to ask.

“Theon,” she said in a husky voice, “you can... put it in.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as his mouth and fingers left her body.

She gave a nod as he undid his britches, abandoning his shirt and allowing himself to become nude to her eyes. Sansa knew that he had lost a part of himself, but in honesty, she saw no issue with his body. The scar below his cock was only noticeable if you were close enough. She was undoubtedly too close for the liking of any person who knew her. Theon sat between her legs and placed himself at her entrance, forcing himself to move with mildness. He wasn’t a monster seeking his own pleasure; he was sharing it with another person. As he entered her body, Sansa gasped. It was slow, uncomfortable, but the feeling of being filled was something she hadn’t expected. Theon was in her, not moving, just leaning over her body as if he was waiting for an invitation to move his hips. He waited until he felt her inner walls almost crush his cock before he began to move in and out of her.

 

The sheer want in Sansa’s eyes made him feel like driving her into the mattress, but he promised himself he would be gentle... unless she asked otherwise.

“Am I too slow?” he asked nervously.

“A little,” she said sheepishly.

Theon moved his hips in a steady rhythm toward Sansa’s womb and sped up little by little, driving himself – rather than her – closer to the edge.

“If I keep going I’ll put a child in your belly,” Theon warned as he forced himself to stop.

“You can’t,” Sansa said as a frown curled her lips downward, “there’s already one there.”

Theon froze at the thought that Ramsay Bolton would produce a child – an heir – with someone as sweet and innocent as Sansa. It was almost sickening.

“I can’t do this Sansa,” he said as he sat up, ready to move away.

Sansa grabbed his elbow and pulled him toward her, their faces millimetres apart.

“You will,” she said as she kissed his cheek tenderly, “you’ve already made it this far... so why not finish what you started?”

 

Theon kissed Sansa fully on the lips and thrust into her **hard** , keeping a constant speed that made her whimper. The sound was so sweet he wished it would last a little longer.

“Theon,” she moaned breathlessly into his ear.

Theon felt Sansa cease moving as an orgasm swept over her body and made her cry out. The clenching of intimate muscles around Theon’s cock made him grunt. He thrust a few more times, stilling his body as he spent himself inside her. He couldn’t undo the damage that Ramsay had done, but at least he had taken away the pain. Sansa fell asleep in his bed, her arms sitting between their naked bodies as they fell asleep. The next morning when they awoke and smiled at one another, Theon pressing a warm kiss to Sansa’s forehead.

“Sansa,” he whispered into her ear, “would you take me as your husband and say that the child is ours? You could tell Jon the truth later on and I’m sure he would understand your wanting to be with me.”

 

Sansa made a face that said it all; it was suicide.

“He could very well walk in and find me in your bed...” her mind trailed off as a thought crossed her mind.

“... and if he does he’ll force us to marry to prevent the child from being called as a bastard like him,” she thought aloud.

Theon grinned.

“You always were smart... I’d love to see how you get your revenge on Ramsay,” he said as a hand rested on Sansa’s belly.

 

A Long Time Later...

 

Sansa’s belly had grown to show a small lump, a tiny human inside of her body who wouldn’t be coming out for a long time yet. As she stood staring at Ramsay, Sansa felt the bump move. It was as if the baby wanted to punch it’s father as much as she wished she could.

“That child is ours,” Ramsay whispered to Sansa as she stood in front of him with a blank expression, “you should let me go and we can raise it together.”

Sansa heard footsteps and she smiled.

“Allow me to introduce you to my husband, Theon Greyjoy, Ironborn,” Sansa sad as Theon stood by her side.

“You mean Reek,” Ramsay said with a smile, “a man so vile he smells like the shit he was born in.”

Sansa slapped Ramsay across the face and he laughed.

“You don’t scare me Sansa,” he said as his smile widened.

“I don’t, but your hounds should.”

“They wouldn’t harm me; I‘m their master,” he offered.

 

“You haven’t fed them in eight days, you said it yourself,” Sansa retorted coldly.

Theon walked to the gates and opened them, the hounds sniffing at Ramsay as the pair walked away. Upon hearing his screams and cries in pain, followed by their sudden silencing, Sansa smiled. Theon was right to have stayed with Sansa; they could take revenge on Ramsay in two ways, the first being a time of healing, coming to find a safety in one another. The second was the way they let him die slowly, watching them walk away with smiles on their faces. Their suffering was ended.

**Author's Note:**

> This thing took up a whole lot of my time so hope you can spare a minute to tell me what's missing and what you liked in the comment or even just leave a kudos anonymously :)


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